


Hurdles

by ronandhermy



Series: The Runaway Race [3]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Gen, brotherly feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-24
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:35:14
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/975036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronandhermy/pseuds/ronandhermy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A continuation of  the Runaway verse. An exploration of Jacob, Debbie and the other Gallaghers before, during and after Runaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Jacob met Ian he was eight years old and getting dropped off from baseball camp. It was summer, and the heat seemed to be a thing living and dying while Jacob tried to hit a ball or catch one. He wasn’t very good at either of those things but he hoped he would get better. Dad always said with enough work anything was possible. 

He walked to the front door and, after fumbling with his key for a bit, let himself in to the house. He dropped his bag by the entrance and toed off his shoes and that’s when he noticed the red headed boy sitting at the dinner table, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

The question of “who’s that?” died on his lips as Mom gestured for him to come take a seat while saying, “Jacob, come met your brother; Ian.”

He took a few hesitant steps before sliding into one of the chairs, his eyes never leaving the angry boy’s face. “Hi,” he managed to get out, his nerves betraying him.

The boy didn’t answer him, but his scowl seemed to get deeper. An unfilled silence seemed to tick on, no one knowing what to say, until Ian spoke up.

“I want to go home,” his voice was tight, his blue eyes hard and his hands were clenched into fists.

“I know it’s going to be an adjustment Ian, for everyone,” and Dad had glanced at him and Mom, “but this is your home now. You’re with your real family.”

“No I’m not,” Ian protested, disbelief practically dripping off each word, “I live in the Southside, my father’s name is Frank Gallagher and he owes more money than God and my siblings names are Fiona, Lip, Debbie and Carl. Not,” and the boy just gave him a look, “Jacob.”

“That was true,” Dad said, attempting placate the older boy, “and some of it still is true. Fiona and all of them are still your siblings, your half-siblings, but Frank is not your father despite what you’ve been led to believe. Remember how we took that DNA test? Do you know what DNA is?”

“Kinda,” the boy said, his voice tight, and Jacob could hear his voice catch slightly, “Lip explained what it was but I didn’t understand most of it. He said it had to do with what made up a person and that half comes from each parent and that it decided things like eye color and stuff.”

“Lip’s exactly right,” Dad said, almost surprised, “He must be very smart.”

“Smartest kid in the Southside,” Ian announced proudly, lighting up a bit as he talked about his brother, “Probably the smartest kid in Chicago.”

“Well with DNA they can tell exactly who your parents are, and I am your father Ian. That’s why you get to live with me. The courts felt it was best for you,” Dad explained.

Jacob could literally see the older boy shutting down. The light seemed to fade from his eyes, his shoulders slumped and he got real quiet. Another silence fell around the table.

“Jacob,” Mom finally spoke up, “Why don’t you show Ian his new room?”

“Ok,” Jacob replied, getting up and gesturing for the older boy to follow him. He did so with a reluctance Jacob knew he should have found offensive but he didn’t. He found this whole thing strange too. How did one go about acquiring an older brother? Apparently through the courts. Whatever that meant.

Once they were up the stairs, Ian stopped Jacob and said, “Don’t worry. I won’t be here for long. I won’t take your Mom and Dad from you.”

At that Jacob had laughed until he realized Ian was being serious. “I don’t mind sharing,” he explained with sincerity, “They’re pretty good parents.”

Ian looked conflicted, like he wanted to explain everything but knowing it probably wouldn’t make much sense to someone who hadn’t been through it, so Jacob just pulled him along to his room.

“Here it is,” Jacob announced opening the door. Inside the room was decorated with a sports and army theme, the bed spread was blue and white, and there were all sorts of toys and things. Ian walked around the room gently picking up things before putting them down in the exact spot he’d found them. “What’s wrong?” he couldn’t help but ask. Nobody he knew was ever this cautious in a room.

“I’ve never had my own room before,” Ian noted, almost to himself. 

“Well,” Jacob thought and then grinned, “I can sleep in here with you tonight. It’ll be like a sleepover.” 

Ian just gave him a smile, it was small and hesitant, but it transformed the older boy. He looked a lot like Dad when he did that and Jacob just grinned harder because it cemented the fact that Ian was his brother. And brothers didn’t go anywhere unless it was a camping trip or a school trip. 

Jacob hopped onto Ian’s bed and asked the question he’d been wondering for a while, “So do you like baseball?”

“Well,” Ian said, relaxing as he went to sit by the younger boy, “I was in Little League for a while.”

“Cool,” Jacob replied, already adjusting to having an older brother, “When I grow up I’m gonna play for the Cubs.”

Ian just grinned at him and ruffled his hair. “I’ll come see you play,” is all he said. And in that moment Jacob loved him.


	2. Chapter 2

Debbie wasn’t sure why Ian’s new brother had to come and hang out with them all of a sudden when he hadn’t for the past three years. When she’d asked Ian he’d just given her a vague answer about family but she knew it probably had to do with something a whole lost less noble. Lip had said it had something to do with corrupting a suburban boy but that seemed like a lot of effort for very little pay off. And Gallaghers knew about payoff, everyone in the Southside did.

“You wanna play?” the young red head had asked, extending a pack of cards with a shy smile. Debbie and Carl had just exchanged a look before sitting on the carpet around the coffee table and gesturing for Jacob to start shuffling the deck. 

“So what’re we playing? Poker? Texas Hold-em?” Debbie asked as Carl began dismembering an army man toy.

“How about Go-Fish?” the boy responded, flushing a bit, “I don’t really know how to play those other games.”

“You don’t know how to play poker?” Carl asked, not quite believing it. 

“Shut it Carl,” Debbie snapped before turning back to Jacob, “We can teach you. If you want.”

The red head began to grin and he looked so much like Ian in that moment Debbie wondered if it maybe it hadn’t all been a mistake. Maybe Ian really did belong on the Northside. But then Ian and Lip were running into the house and diving behind the couch yelling that they weren’t there and Debbie knew Ian was still Southside. At least for the most part. 

“Are you playing Extreme hide-and-seek?” Jacob asked in confusion, as he shuffled the cards.

Carl just rolled his eyes and threw a small plastic arm at the back of Ian’s head while Debbie said, “It’s probably best not to ask. Deniability.”

“Oh,” was all Jacob said, his brow still drawn in confusion. 

“Debs, we were never here,” Lip instructs at the same time Ian says, “Jacob, you never saw me.” And then they’re both running up the stairs. There’s the sound of a door slamming and then silence. 

Debbie turns backed to Jacob asking, as if nothing had happened, “So do you want to learn how to play Poker first or should we start with Blackjack?”

Before he could answer a rather large boy, a little older than Lip, barreled into the house, shouting, “Where is that son-of-a-bitch?” He spotted the kids with their cards and demanded, “Hey kids, where’s the shit stain?”

“Who?” Jacob asked, all guileless and friendly fear. Debbie wanted to smack him for speaking.

“The brothers Gallagher,” the angry teen spat out, looking at Jacob like he was stupid.

“Well I’m a Gallagher,” Jacob said, as if he were working through a difficult math problem, “and Carl’s a Gallagher, and we’re both boys, but we’re not brothers. He has brothers, one of whom is shared by me. Are you looking for him?”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” the teen asked, anger and confusion warring for dominance in his tone. 

“But Ian hasn’t been here for over an hour so that means you’re looking for somebody else who is a Gallagher and a boy and a brother who isn’t Carl or Ian or me. Are you looking for Liam? Because he’s just a baby and I don’t think Fiona would be comfortable with you touching him,” Jacob continued. Everyone just stared at him for a moment.

Then the teen said, “Raggedy Ann, tell your brother I’m gonna kick his ass next time I see him,” and he stopped out of the house, confusion still lingering on his face. 

A few minutes later Ian and Lip crept down the stairs. “He gone?”

“Yeah,” Debbie replied, not even looking up from organizing the cards, “Thanks to Jacob confusing him.”

“Good boy,” Lip praised while Ian leaned over the couch to ruffle Jacob’s hair. They both settled in on either side of Jacob and began debating with Debbie and Carl what the exact rules of Poker were. Lip began tickling Carl and Debbie was being insistent about a duce rule while Ian laughed. Jacob just sat there, smiling, letting himself belong.


	3. Chapter 3

“But Dad,” Ian was arguing as he set the table for dinner, “having a job will look great on college applications.”

“Ian, I admire that you want to start working but you’re only fifteen. You’ll have plenty of time to work once you graduate. Enjoy being a teenager,” Clayton replied, as he uncorked a bottle of wine of him and Mom to enjoy.

“Who says I won’t be enjoying being a teenager by working?” Ian asked before continuing, “Isn’t having a crappy part time job part of the teenage experience? Plus, that means I won’t be bugging you for a raise in my allowance anymore. So really it’s to your benefit.”

“Oh is it now,” Dad replied with a laugh, helping Ian finish lay out the silverware. 

“Are you still talking about that cashier job?” Mom asks as she comes in from the kitchen, carrying the chicken that would be tonight’s dinner. “I thought we’d finished that discussion. You’re not doing it. It’s far too dangerous.”

“It’s not the Northside is what you mean,” Ian snarks back and Jacob can see this is going to devolve into a fight rather quickly if something isn’t done about it.

“When would you be working anyway?” Jacob asks, jumping in as he gets up from the couch.

“Just a few days after school for a couple of hours. It’s no big deal,” Ian replies, as they all take their seats at the table. 

Then Mom is giving Dad some significant looks across the table even as Jacob and Ian start to dig in to the food. Dad looks nervous, like he’s done something wrong, and then he turns to Ian with a slight hunch in his shoulder.

“Ian,” he begins, “there may be a way for you to take this job,” Ian perked up and Dad was quick to add the caveat, “But, you’ll have to start attending regular sessions with Dr. Sherman.”

“The shrink?” Jacob asked as Ian asked at the same time, “What for?”

“We think,” Mom spoke up in the tone that was far too polite for the situation, “we think it might help to have an unbiased third party to talk to about…well, about everything.”

“You think I’m crazy?” Ian asked, his eyes impossibly wide as he looked between Mom and Dad.

“No,” Dad quickly replied, “Not at all. We just think it would be a good outlet for you.”

“I do karate and JROTC,” Ian protested.

“Outlets that aren’t so violent,” Mom supplied, sipping her wine and everyone knew the incident she was alluding to. During a karate match Ian had broken a boy’s leg so badly it had needed to be set with three pins. Jacob still got a little queasy thinking about it. That cracking sound and the scream that came after weren’t things easily forgotten. 

“Ian, we just want was it is best for you,” Dad said, looking at his eldest son with the utmost sincerity.

Ian got real quite after that. He didn’t even chime in to correct Jacob when he exaggerated his amazing pitch at practice. Half-way through the meal though he spoke up. “Fine. I’ll do it.” Then he refused to speak for the rest of the evening.

Jacob knew the real reason Ian wanted the job was to give the money to Fiona. He knew Ian would never tell, not even under pain of death, but he’d been slipping his allowance into the squirrel fund for over a year now. Sometimes Jacob would do the same when he didn’t think Ian was looking. 

But Jacob knew, just as Ian did, that things were getting even tighter in the Southside Gallagher house. So Ian had decided to take the bullet of therapy, something he had been violently opposed to, to keep his siblings fed and clothed. And Jacob knew, even without Ian having to tell him, he was not to tell anyone about Dr. Sherman. It would be Ian’s burden to bear to provide for his family. And Ian would do most anything for family.


	4. Chapter 4

Lip knows rage. He knows it from having Frank as a shitty excuse for a father, he knows it from having his sorta girlfriend sleep with said father, and he knows it from the fact that Frank is not Ian’s father. It’s always there, lurking beneath the surface, ready to lash out at anyone who thinks the Gallaghers aren’t good enough or that they owe something. He understands rage. But right now he’s not sure what to feel. 

His little brother wants to go West Point. His little brother who helped little old ladies across the street and braided Debbie’s hair and let Jacob tag along after him. That little brother wanted to throw away his life to protect a country that couldn’t give two shits about any of them. How could Ian fight for a place that had ripped him from his real family? 

Lip could remember that day with horrifying detail. The walls of the courtroom had gleamed in an unnatural way, a product of the florescent light and the high industrial grade chemical cleaning products. The judge had looked down at them over her glasses as Frank and his brother, Clayton stood in-front of her. Frank was clearly wearing a borrowed suit and he’d only been sober for a few days, just enough to get the AA chip and the false testimony of a sponsor, and he was trying to sound sincere with little effect. By contrast Clayton was wearing a neat suit, clearly tailored, and he was nervous. Behind him, sitting in the pew closest to his table, was his wife who did not look particularly happy about the proceedings. 

When it was announced that Ian Clayton Gallagher (Christ Monica, Lip had thought, could you even try to be subtle) was not Frank’s son but Clayton’s Lip knew his whole world was changing, and not it a good way. Change never seemed to be good when you were Southside. Then the judge had proceeded to award custody of Ian to his new father and Ian had broken down. He’d clung to Lip, his bony arms refusing to let go, and Fiona, determined to stay with his family. He thought that Lip and Fiona could fix this, could keep him, but Ian didn’t know how messed up the courts could be. Not like Lip did from his various readings of court dockets. 

The guards had come over and Lip snapped at them, “Couldn’t you give us a moment? Christ. Not like you’ve traumatized us enough.” And Ian was crying in that quiet way he’d perfected. Salty tears falling against Lip’s neck and quiet little wheezes that betrayed just how terrified he was. He’d held his little brother tight, his eyes beseeching Fiona to think of something, to do anything, but she was just as lost and hopeless as Lip. When they’d finally pulled Ian away from him the red head had started screaming, demanding to go home with his siblings. And Lip, in a moment of stupidity, had shouted out, “They can’t keep us apart.” 

It was the first time he’d boldly lied to his brother’s face.

Sometimes he would wake up, covered in sweat, as his dreams gave into the decay of those hateful memories. The desperation of Ian, his eyes wet with tears as he was led through the courtroom doors, the glint of light off of the judge’s glasses, the shaking hands of Fiona. His memories haunted him in ways he knew would never go away. The sense of desperation and fear didn’t just disappear after being felt to such an extreme degree.

But he wasn’t upset about that now, and he knew the West Point thing was just an excuse. What he was most upset about was Ian calling that woman, Lucy, Mom. He didn’t really know why he was upset. He wanted Ian to have the good life on the Northside with all the fancy schools and fun filled activities he could get. There was nothing he wanted more for his brother then for him to be happy and secure, financially and otherwise. But did he have to go and assimilate so well? Did he have to call that woman Mom? Did it have to look like Ian wasn’t their brother anymore?

And amidst the tumult of emotions he was experiencing Lip wished that all he felt was rage.


	5. Chapter 5

Jacob’s never liked Mickey, not since he’d beat up Jacob when he was thirteen and stolen his backpack, but he’d learned to tolerate him for Ian’s sake. He didn’t know what Ian saw in that dirty kid because at this point Jacob was just convinced Ian had really shitty taste in men. Like worse than Lip’s taste in women. Which, really, when he thought about it was kinda impressive.

He’d gone up to Ian’s room to grab something, he couldn’t quite remember what, and he’d opened the door without knocking like he always did. He’d excepted to find his brother. He had not expected to find his brother with his head buried into Mickey Milkovich’s crotch clearing sucking the older boy’s dick like his life depended on it. Any words he might have spoken died before they even made it to his throat. 

And there was Mickey, sitting on the bed, one of his hands buried into Ian’s hair, clearly guiding the red head in his task. He noticed Jacob while Ian still seemed blissfully oblivious. Instead of panicking like any normal person would after being caught by their boyfriend’s little brother, Mickey just fucking smirked at him. Like he was king of the fucking castle. And then he was groaning and throwing his head back as Ian shifted further down.

Jacob couldn’t watch anymore of this. He closed the door, walked to his own room, and sat on the floor while he attempted to purge the image he had just seen from his mind. He didn’t care that his brother was gay. Ian could kick his ass and anyone else who wanted to give him crap about liking dick. He cared that he’d walked in on his brother and his boyfriend. There were some things no person should ever have to witness, and an older brother’s romantic escapades were one of them. 

Jacob dragged out his cell phone and proceeded to call Debbie. He’d bought her a Go-Phone and a couple of prepaid cards for her last birthday so that she could contact him for anything. He knew she only used it for emergencies but right now was definitely constituted an emergency.

After the third ring she picked up. “Hello?”

“Debbie, thank God,” Jacob breathed out.

“Jake? Is something wrong?” came the concern.

“Yeah. No. Well, sorta. It’s complicated. Can you just talk to me?” Jacob asked, running his free hand through his hair. 

“Sure. But are you sure you’re all right?” Debbie asked again and Jacob could picture her scrunching her forehead in worry.  
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. I just needed to hear you talk,” Jacob replied, his heartbeat starting to calm down.

“What about?” came Debbie’s question, her tone still tinged with worry.

“Anything. Just…anything,” Jacob said.

“Well today Carl and Little Hank managed to get their hands on some knives and they wanted to dissect a squirrel on the dinner table but I told them no way in hell. So they ended up going on the roof and tried practicing throwing knives. Except Little Hank ended up throwing his knife through one of Tony’s open windows so now his girlfriend thinks we’re a bunch of violent racists. Which is totally unfair because I support cultural awareness and acceptance. And Carl doesn’t hate anyone that lets him near fire or knives or guns. So now thanks to Little Hank Tony is coming over later to have a “discussion” with Fiona,” Debbie continued on in this vein for some time.

After a while Jacob wasn’t even listening to the words he was just listening to Debbie’s voice. He got lost in her cadence as her voice rose in agitation before falling back down as she calmed herself down. He could picture her red hair flying, her freckles blending in with her blush of irritation, and her smile made of sweetness. She had a way of calming him down by just being herself. And Jacob, without even fully realizing it, just let his guard down and let Debbie in.


	6. Chapter 6

Jacob hates high school. He figures it must be like what Mickey feels about Juvie, except Mickey’s incarnation was due to voluntary actions as opposed to the mandatory system of education put in place by this country. He’s just barely managed to avoid getting a swirly today and he can’t take the concerned looks that are sure to appear on Ian and his parents’ faces when they see him. So he does the only thing he can think of and hops a train to the Southside. 

Funny how he feels safer in a place he’s been jumped a couple of times, being mistaken for one of Frank’s, then at the school he was supposed to be creating some of the best memories of his youth. At least in the Southside people usually jumped him for a good, if often mistaken, reason. But no one came near him today. Too easy to kick the Northside dog when he was down. 

Maybe because down here he knew more than his brother had his back. But he didn’t want to see Ian right now. He didn’t want Ian to go and beat up those kids, all right he did, but it wouldn’t solve any of his problems. It was just a Band-Aid on a bullet wound. And he didn’t want to see the pity on his cousins’ faces if he showed up at their front door looking as lost as he felt. So he went to the one place he’d never thought he’d voluntarily go on his own; the Milkovich house.

After he knocked on the door he entertained the thought of just walking away. Why was he even here? Before he could make up his mind though, the door opened and revealed a dirty, older man, probably in his twenties, with greasy stringy blond hair.

“What do you want?” he asked, with all the aggression Jacob had come to expect from the Milkovich family.

“Is Mickey here?” Jacob found himself asking. Why he didn’t ask for Mandy he wasn’t really sure.

The blond man looked him up and down, taking in the red head’s uniform and neat appearance, and came to the conclusion that Jacob was cruising for blow. He didn’t even nod, just hollered back into the house, “Mickey, customer.” And went back inside, leaving the door wide open. 

Mickey came out of his room, agitated, ready to yell at his brother when he spotted Jacob. All of sudden he tensed but his voice was calm, if incredulous, as he asked, “Gallagher, what the fuck you doing here?”

And Jacob couldn’t help but laugh, just a short one, more of bark then anything, and just shrugged his shoulders. He was wondering the same damn thing.

Mickey must have seen something on his face because he just gestured Jacob to follow him as he went back to his room. The younger boy felt awkward walking into Mickey’s space, it was dirty and filled with things he didn’t want to speculate too much about. He stood just inside of the doorway watching as Mickey rummaged around the half buried couch. 

“You need someone to get a beat down?” Mickey asked, as he fished for whatever the hell was in the corner he was digging around in.

“No thanks,” Jacob replied, not even bothering to take the high road when he continued, “Ian would do that for free.”

Mickey just grunted in acknowledgment as he pulled out a shoebox and then went to sit on the bed. He then proceeded to pull out rolling papers and a baggy of weed. Jacob was still unsure of what he was excepted to do as Mickey rolled a joint.

“Come here,” Mickey commanded once he’d finished rolling the blunt. Jacob came further into the room and sat on the floor near Mickey’s bed. 

The dark haired boy then lit the joint and handed it to Jacob with the words, “Smoke this.”

Jacob took it, but Mickey must have seen his hesitation because he jibbed, “What’s a matter? You never smoke before?”

Jacob just took in a lungful of smoke to answer that question. 

Mickey grinned like a fucking shark and gave a small laugh. And Jacob sat on that dirty floor and smoked that joint until he could feel the ash on his fingers and his mind go numb.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who reviewed or left kudos. Your support means the world to me and I'm so glad you enjoyed this AU as much as I do.

Fiona doesn’t know how it’d become normal for her to show up on the Northside but it has. Ian’s in college now but they’re all gathering at Clayton and Lucy’s to have a family birthday celebration before Mickey and Mandy and Lip drag him off to the bars they’ve been getting into since they were fifteen. It will always be awkward for Fiona to interact with Clayton and Lucy because these were the people who took her little brother away. Sure they did right by him but it was hard to forgive the original wrong that could never be fixed. Still, she endured them because in doing so she got time with Ian and that was worth any amount of crap life threw at her. 

Everyone’s here, except for the birthday boy, in this fancy house that Fiona can’t quite picture Ian growing up in even though there are photos of him during the holidays, and school pictures, and fishing trips with just the boys, and his graduation photos. It’s all very Twilight Zone if Fiona’s being honest. Kev and V are helping set up the buffet on the dining table, Debbie and Carl, with Liam’s “help”, are finishing putting up decorations. Lip is arguing with Clayton about something in the kitchen and Mandy’s just watching with misplaced smugness. 

The oddest thing about this whole scene, Fiona admitted to herself, was Mickey and Lucy. When the dirty boy had arrived he’d been given a hug by the matriarch, which he’d returned, and treated with such familiarity it made Fiona wonder just what was going on. Was Mickey Lucy’s dealer? She didn’t seem the type but you never knew. 

Then Ian’s arriving in his full ROTC gear and the surprise on his face is evident when he walks into a full house of people. There are hugs and jabs and grins exchanged and Ian’s doing his shy head duck and grin he’s perfected over the years. Fiona kisses his cheek and finds it odd that she has to stand on her tippy toes to do so. In her mind Ian is still the freckled ten year old who had clutched her hand to cross the street. 

The party’s going, Lip having spiked some of the punch, but Fiona needs to pee before she has to listen to another one of Lucy’s stories about Ian as a teenager. She heads upstairs because she knows Carl’s doing something in the downstairs toilet and she does not want to have to deal with that right now. As she making her way up the stairs she hears a shuffle and the sound of a body hitting a wall. Not forcibly, just with a subtle thud.

She picks up her pace and upon reaching the second floor she realizes one of the doors, clearly marked as Ian’s room by a wooden plaque, is slightly ajar. There’s no sounds of fighting, physical or otherwise, going on but she does hear a groan. Creeping closer she can’t help but peak inside and it takes everything in her power not to say something.

Mickey Milkovich has her brother pressed up against the wall and he’s viciously making out with him. It was the only way to describe it. It was like Ian and Mickey were arguing with their mouths without words. 

Fiona stood there for a moment longer before reaching over and closing the door. As she continued to make her way to the bathroom all Fiona could think was, “That explains so fucking much.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always Review/Comments/Kudos are greatly appreciated.


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